


go kiss the liquor off his laugh

by thorduna



Series: Oneshots [17]
Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Human, Body Shots, Clubbing, First Meetings, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-14
Updated: 2015-08-14
Packaged: 2018-04-14 17:48:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4573947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thorduna/pseuds/thorduna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Instead she bends down to the man and quickly says something into his ear and almost immediately straightens up again and very </i>expressively<i> waves at Thor to come closer.</i></p><p>It's simple: Friday night. Thor is not having a blast, until he spots a very special little "event" happening.</p>
            </blockquote>





	go kiss the liquor off his laugh

**Author's Note:**

> Had the idea when I was at a place just like I describe (minus delicious people offering body shots), then a lone paragraph of the fic sat in my WIPs, today I decided to complete it. Hope you enjoy and sorry for any mistakes!

Nobody has ever accused Thor of being anti-social. That's just not his thing. He can get along with almost everyone and he's good at _being places,_ no matter what the crowd is like. But the truth is, when the words _Friday night_ are uttered, he imagines a nice cosy pub, drinking a pint – or ten – of beer with a bunch of friends, talking and laughing about the week they've had.

 

The club where he finds himself now doesn't really allow for any of that. His friends are scattered all over the place, indulging in various activities, anywhere from flirting to dancing to doing shots with strangers, and he somehow didn't manage manage to join in.

 

He's not exactly unhappy though. The club is very loud, very crowded and very dark and he hangs in a corner, sober enough to take it all in and, absurdly, find some peace and quiet among all of that. The activity is frantic and he knows he can't just lose himself in it; he's not in the same mindset as the rest of the people here are. He does feel some regret, yeah. He likes to sit down with his friends and listen to them, not watch them all but scream to each other's ears and not be heard anyway. He's also a beer guy and the bottled stuff they have here – overpriced too – just doesn't suit him like the tap selection from his favourite spots.

 

(Turns out fate wants him to become a 'shot' kind of a man.)

 

His thoughts are interrupted by an explosion of yells and hoots that is loud enough to actually stand out even in all the noise and he turns automatically, frowning and squinting through the dimness and the constant movement of bodies. He still doesn't see much, except for a cluster of, mostly, men, and drawn inexplicably, he pushes away from the wall and comes closer.

 

There is a secondary bar around the corner, manned by only one bartender, which seems to only offer a couple of types of alcohol, nowhere near what is usual in a place like this. And... Thor pauses, rising his eyebrows. There is a man stretched out on the slim bar top, topless, head thrown back as he laughs. Thor watches him as the crowd parts just _so_ , allowing Thor to see his face, sharp and glowing, white teeth flashing as he smiles wildly before accepting a slice of lemon between them.

 

Ah.

 

Finally that makes sense. At least kind of.

 

The crowd tightens again and it's only the noise that erupts less than a minute later that tells Thor another lucky guy has drunk the shot.

 

 _Lucky_ guy? He's not exactly sure where that thought came from but he is stepping forward all the same. With his height, it's no issue to see much better once he joins the group, even if he hangs back. For all he knows, this is a semi-private kind of thing and he will be shoved away any second.

 

It seems like that suspicion is coming true when he spots the bartender looking at him; she's a very pretty girl – curvy (trust him, he's not the type to make that observation first, but her top is making it impossible not to) – with bright red lips. Her eyes narrow and he's sure he's about to be shooed, which is no problem really, but she looks fierce. He'd rather the bouncers weren't involved.

 

(Last time a bouncer took an issue with him, Thor broke his arm. Accidentally.)

 

Instead she bends down to the man and quickly says something into his ear and almost immediately straightens up again and very _expressively_ waves at Thor to come closer. At least, that's what he thinks she's doing and he quickly looks over his shoulder to make sure she doesn't mean anyone else, and then points at himself quizzically for good measure.

 

She nods vigorously, flapping her hand at him again and rolling her eyes. Thor pushes through the group and ends up at the bar, standing right by the spread out man's hips. He's dressed in very tight and very low hanging black jeans and except for a couple of bracelets, black and silver, nothing else. Not even shoes and that's – wow. Something about that detail sends Thor's pulse running.

 

It's a pretty awkward position to look someone in the face but they manage, exchanging a smile that Thor is sure on his part is a bit confused, whereas the man is smirking at him with a definite twinkle in his eyes. Thor can't quite see the colour, but they're light, definitely not brown or black, and framed by thick lashes, as black as his semi-long hair that fans out around his head on the bar top.

 

Damn, he's gorgeous.

 

The bartender waves again for his attention, this time brandishing a bottle of tequila.

 

“Shot?” he thinks she's mouthing.

 

He nods without thinking.

 

She grabs the salt shaker and looks at him expectantly, which is the point when he realizes he isn't exactly sure how this works. He's seen the lemon wedge of course and he has a fairly good idea where the alcohol goes, but as for the salt...

 

The man grabs his wrist with one hand and Thor looks down at him quickly. The smirk is still there, darker and more amused, and he turns his head, pointing to the side of his neck, tugging at Thor's arm again.

 

Right.

 

The man has turned his head towards the club and away from the bar, which means Thor has to lean almost entirely on top of him top get to the exposed spot and... lick.

 

It's so quick it's almost nothing at first and then it hits Thor all at once – the warmth of another body, the very faint smell of cologne that is almost too sweet for a man, the lingering scent of citrus and liquor. He darts out his tongue and licks a stripe down the stranger's pale neck and hesitates for a second, a gush of hot breath hitting his ear. When he straightens back up, the bartender is grinning at him smugly. Then she takes the shaker and sprinkles the man's neck where Thor has licked him and Thor has to bit down on his lip. Fuck. This is equal parts ridiculous and hot.

 

Next, the man accepts a lemon wedge between his teeth, giving it a little teasing suck with his lips. His belly button is pretty small and only a couple of drops of the tequila actually fit in, but Thor is beginning to see that alcohol isn't really point of this exercise. Besides, the bartender seems pretty excited and she over-pours and spills it. The tequila makes a fragrant stream down the man's waist and soaks the fabric of his jeans.

 

She makes a ta-daah motion over the man's body and Thor takes a deep breath, once again leaning to lick his neck. The salt is shocking on his tongue and he thinks he might very well do without it and rather taste just skin. He moves lower and his heart is pounding now; he's never been happier to fail to get drunk on a Friday night, because he gets to savour this with his senses mostly intact, the warmth and smoothness of the skin, the slight quiver of a flat belly as the stranger controls his breathing as to not spill the meagre offering pooling in his navel. Thor inches until his mouth is just above the waistline of the jeans and licks out, tasting the spilled tequila mingled with the taste of the man before diving upwards and slurping the drink from his belly button. It doesn't go down smoothly – there's too much salt and not enough liquor and it has all spilled over his tongue instead of sliding down his throat but he couldn't care less.

 

Especially once he goes in for the lemon.

 

Their eyes meet despite the dimness and chaos of the club and it all seems to fall away just for a second. Then Thor drops his gaze to the red lips puckered slightly around the lemon and he opens his mouth carefully, minding his teeth but bypassing the citrus to touch his lips to the man's before withdrawing enough to be sure that when he sinks his teeth in, it will only be into the pulp and not skin.

 

He welcomes the burst of freshness and sourness, catching the wedge between two fingers once he's pulled it from the offering mouth to bite into it properly, still hunched over and watching the man. It comes as a pleasant surprise when he realizes that he is breathing hard and staring at Thor. His smirk is gone, but satisfaction is rolling off of him in waves, making Thor be the one to grin this time.

 

 _Green_ , he sees finally. His eyes are green.

 

Somebody slaps his back in a congratulatory sort of way and the moment is broken. Thor stands up properly and finally realizes that the cheering is almost deafening. It hits him more strongly than that drunk slap on the back did and he blinks. He's been completely lost in that... act.

 

The bartender gives him a covert thumbs-up and he is surprised to see the man sitting up and swinging his legs down the bar at her side. There are sounds of disappointment all around Thor and another slap lands on him, one that he interprets as the “you lucky bastard” kind.

 

In two quick steps, the man is at the darkened doorway that leads from the bar to the back, or so Thor can only assume. He turns quickly before he disappears through, flashing Thor a look loaded with something that Thor is comfortable not giving a name to.

 

* * *

 

Half an hour later he sits in an otherwise empty booth, lounging on the soft leather, nursing a scotch on rocks. He swirls the drink, watching the ice cubes clink together. When he asked the bartender if he owed anything for the 'shot,' she waved him off and offered him another tequila which he refused. Even now, as he sits, relaxed, he doesn't think he will ever drink it again. It just wouldn't be the same without the smell of skin and cologne, and pretty eyes smiling at him.

 

“So,” comes a voice right at his ear and Thor jumps. He was so lost in thought he completely missed that someone slid into the booth next to him. No, not _someone_.

 

Him.

 

“Imagine that there I am, coming out of the staff room and there's at least three guys waiting, all ready to get another piece of me,” he says. He has to speak loudly, everybody here does, but with his breath tickling Thor's ear, he might as well be whispering. “And the only one I would let is nowhere to be seen.”

 

He finishes that statement by plucking the glass from Thor's hands and downing its contents.

 

Thor laughs and reaches out to cup the man's face. He can't help but look him over curiously now that they are facing each other at a more ordinary angle. His hair was tidied up and hangs around his face in seemly waves and he is dressed in a very thin green t-shirt and, with the colour setting them off, he can see his eyes much more clearly, which he enjoys greatly.

 

“Do I at least get points for not being a creep?” he asks and swipes his thumb over the man's lower lip.

 

“You get points for a lot of things, but don't let it get into your head.”

 

“Never,” Thor grins. “Can I get you a drink?”

 

“You can,” the man nods. “Somewhere away from here.”

 

Thor doesn't need to be told twice and a minute later they are slipping into the fresh night air. Thor takes a deep breath, relieved. His ears are buzzing with the sudden silence.

 

They stop a couple of paces away from the club's entrance and face each other. Thor is smiling and can clearly see the other man is trying hard not to.

 

“Hi.”

 

“Hi,” he replies and finally cracks, giving Thor that sharp smile that caught his attention in the first place.

 

“I'm Thor.”

 

“Loki.”

 

“Loki...” Thor rolls the name in his mouth like he did the tequila. “Nice to meet you. Shall we?”

 

Loki takes the proffered arm with a little inclination of his head.

 

“We shall. It's your turn to give me a little piece of yourself.”

 

Thor shivers at the feeling of a warm body pressed to his side. The night city is flashing in blacks, blues and oranges in front of them.

 

“I'm looking forward to it.”

 

 


End file.
